


All Mine

by intotheruins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Dean, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sam Winchester, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's feeling possessive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karmascars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmascars/gifts).



> I wrote this for my beta, karmascars, as a thank you for all the editing they've done on my dcbb. Also because it was way too much fun :D

Sometimes, Sam just can't wait.

The bar bathroom is only a single, thank _god._ Not that stalls would have stopped him; he's not sure anything could right now. Not when he has his infuriating, _gorgeous_ brother by the back of the neck, when he's slamming closed the door, throwing the lock, throwing _Dean_ up against it. Dean grunts as his cheek connects with the heavy wood. He bucks once, but Sam just presses down on his neck, crowding in with his body until Dean's reduced to squirming. Sam's not worried that Dean wants to get away. He's just testing the give of Sam's grip, letting himself imagine he's really trapped, and Sam's more than happy to help with the illusion.

“Just can't help yourself, can you?” Sam growls. He dips his head and bites Dean's earlobe, grins when he feels Dean's whole body shudder against him. “Putting yourself on display like that, just _giving yourself away._ ”

“No idea what you're talkin' about, Sammy.” Dean's voice is breathless, and Sam can hear the grin in it so clearly he can't help responding with one of his own.

“No?” Sam removes his hand from Dean's neck, gets both hands on Dean's shoulders and pins him hard against the door. Dean swallows a moan and rubs his ass back against Sam's hips. Sam has to bite his lip to keep from breaking right then. He was already uncomfortably hard in his jeans just watching the show Dean put on for him.

“So you weren't going to let that chick crawl all over you? Or the bartender, fuck, he wanted to eat you alive. Probably would have stripped you right there on the bar.” Dean doesn't quite manage to swallow his moan this time. Sam grins again, quick and fierce, and nips the shell of Dean's ear. “Bet you'd love that, everyone's eyes on you. Making me watch, making me so jealous, Dean, god...”

Sam bites down on the back of Dean's neck, hard enough to hurt but not enough to break skin. Dean _melts_ against the door. Sam has to pin him in place with his hips to keep him from sliding down to the floor.

“ _Sam,_ fuck.”

There are deep indents in Dean's skin when Sam removes his teeth, and it sends a thrill of possession thrumming down his spine. He reaches up and manages to get a decent grip in Dean's hair where it's longest at the top, and yanks his brother's head back. “Yes, _fuck_ ,” he agrees heartily.

He bends his head and doesn't care that the kiss is messy and awkward as fuck. Judging by the way Dean licks into his mouth, he doesn't give a damn, either.

While he has Dean distracted, Sam shoves his hands down between the door and Dean's hips and works at his brother's fly. He has to back off a little to actually get them and Dean's boxers shoved down to his knees. Dean groans in encouragement when Sam curls a loose fist around his cock, but Sam only gives him a few teasing strokes before he pulls away. He nips at Dean's lower lip, and then backs away completely.

“Damn it, Sam,” Dean hisses, but he doesn't move from his place.

“Gotta look at you,” Sam says. He palms himself through his jeans, but doesn't relieve the pressure yet. He's always liked torturing himself a little.

And Dean, god, Dean is the perfect, perfect torture. Jeans and boxers caught around his knees, legs spread as wide as the material will allow. Black t-shirt and nothing else, too hot that night for more layers. Dean arches his back as Sam's eyes rove over him hungrily, watching his little brother's reactions over his shoulder. Sam hisses when Dean reaches back and palms his own ass with one hand. Dean grins. He braces himself against the door with his shoulders and slips his other hand down to his balls, but he only gets in one good knead before Sam lunges, grabs both of Dean's wrists and pins them with one hand against Dean's lower back.

“Did I tell you it was okay to touch yourself?” Sam hisses. He pins Dean's hips to the door with his own, grinds his erection into Dean's ass. Dean doesn't even bother muffling his moan this time.

“Come on, Sam, fuck, just fuck me already!”

Sam sinks his teeth back into Dean's neck, briefly, biting down just hard enough for Dean to go limp against him. He slides his free hand into his back pocket and gets the little tube of lube he'd shoved there before they left the motel.

“I'll fuck you when I'm ready,” Sam snarls.

Dean _whimpers,_ no other word for it.

Desperate now for a little relief, Sam lets go of Dean's wrists and hastily opens his fly. He doesn't bother taking them off, just pulls them down enough to comfortably free his cock. He drizzles a generous amount of lube into his hand and slicks up, shoves the tube back in his pocket and finally reaches out with his slick hand, sliding two fingers teasingly into Dean's crack.

“Don't need prep,” Dean says. “Ready now, Sam, come _on._ ”

Sam rolls his eyes. They've had this conversation; Dean _always_ ends up regretting it when he rushes Sam. “Dean, I...”

He's already slick. Sam freezes, both fingers rubbing up against Dean's hole, pressing in to test the give. Dean opens right up, loose and open and fuck, _fuck,_ that was why he took his own sweet time in the shower earlier.

“You've been walking around like this,” Sam says, breathless. He slides both fingers in all the way and reaches for Dean's prostate because _god,_ Dean deserves some kind of reward for this. He grins fiercely when Dean bites down hard on his bottom lip, hands fisting against the door as he tries to keep quiet.

“Yeah.” Dean's voice is strained, and he whimpers again when Sam strokes his fingers over his prostate. “Fuck – yeah, right _there..._ ”

Sam slides his fingers out. He wipes excess lube off on his jeans and grabs Dean's hips. He rubs his cock teasingly along Dean's crack, ignoring Dean's groan of protest and the way he shoves his ass back for more.

“Did it turn you on, Dean?” Sam leans in, breathes the words directly into Dean's ear. “Talking to all those people, flirting, and the whole time feeling yourself so slick and open and ready for _me._ ”

“Yeah,” Dean pants. “Yeah, fuck, couldn't wait for you to break and drag me back here.”

Sam's fingers tighten, digging harshly into Dean's skin. He thrusts a little harder, groans when he feels the head of his cock catch on Dean's rim.

“Mine,” Sam growls. He thrusts again and has to slam his teeth back into the indents on Dean's neck when he just slides right in, bottoming out in one easy stroke.

“Sam!” Dean slams a fist into the door. “I swear if you don't fuck me right _now,_ I will go out there and find someone who will.”

Sam _snarls_ against Dean's neck. He pulls out just enough to slam back in, driving Dean's hips into the door and making him choke around a desperate moan. He hauls Dean back, forcing him to brace his hands against the door, only Dean slips and ends up bracing against his own knees instead.

“Sam!” Dean yelps, probably embarrassed by the awkward position, but it's perfect. He has no leverage at all, and Sam can do whatever he wants to him.

The pace he sets is brutal, quick, sharp thrusts that would send Dean sprawling right to the floor if it weren't for the iron grip Sam has around his hips. Dean can't do a damn thing except take it, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing Sam's ever seen. He sees it when Dean gets into it, watches his brother's eyes glaze as he surrenders that last shred of control and just lets Sam manipulate him.

“Wouldn't let anyone else do this, would you?” Sam gasps, and then he suddenly can't stand it and slides a hand up to Dean's shoulder, pulling him up and back until he's bearing all of Dean's weight against his chest. He stumbles back until he can bend Dean forward towards the sink, lets him get a good grip on it so Sam can reach down and curl a hand around his cock.

“All mine,” Sam breathes. “Wouldn't trust anyone else, would you, Dean? Just wanted to make me jealous.”

Dean uses his new leverage to shove back against Sam. He groans deep in his chest when Sam resumes the short, sharp thrusts. “Must not have done a very good job,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

Sam takes his hand away from Dean's cock, and pulls out. Dean gasps and tries to turn, eyes wide and shocked, but Sam grabs his neck and forces him down.

“Am I not doing well enough, Dean?” Sam asks coolly. Dean curses and jerks in Sam's grip. Sam tightens his fingers around Dean's neck. “Maybe I should just leave you like this.”

“Oh, don't you _fucking dare._ ”

“No?” Sam pushes three fingers into Dean, as deep as he can, and then just leaves them there, watching as Dean squirms and bucks, trying to fuck himself back onto them. “Are you sure? Maybe someone out there can do it better.”

Dean, the bastard, actually snickers. “Like you could stand it if someone else fucked me.”

Sam works in a fourth finger, and then goes still again. “You're right,” he says, almost conversationally. “Could still leave you, though. Think you can get off just as well with your own fingers, Dean? I just don't think it would be as satisfying.”

“Fuck you,” Dean grunts. “Better yet, fuck me.”

Sam sighs. “I don't know, Dean, you seem pretty convinced that I'm not doing a good job.”

“Oh my _god,_ Sam, you're great, you're perfect, now FUCK ME.”

Sam slides his fingers out. He reaches around and strokes Dean's cock, slow and loose, grinning when Dean sobs. He guides his cock back to Dean's hole, slips the head in and then just rocks there, stretching him open but denying him the fullness he knows Dean is craving.

Dean's jaw clenches. Sam waits, muscles shaking with barely restrained tension because fuck, he just wants to be back in Dean already. Wants to bury himself in his heat and just _stay there,_ but if he breaks Dean will never let him live it down.

And then Dean finally, _finally_ gasps, “Fuck, you asshole, _please!_ ” and Sam sinks back into him with a relieved sigh.

Sam tightens his hand around Dean's cock and jerks him in quick strokes, just over the head. “Good boy.”

Dean shoves a fist in his mouth and screams into it as he comes all over Sam's hand. Sam works him through it, squeezing out every last trace of his orgasm, and when he feels Dean go boneless under him he finally lets loose. He gets an arm around Dean's waist and ruts into him desperately, bends forward until he can rest his forehead against Dean's back and hisses Dean's name through clenched teeth as his own orgasm slow burns its way through his body.

They sink down to the floor afterward, an awkward, sweaty mess of tangled clothes and limbs. Dean works his jeans back up his hips and mumbles something about needing a shower.

“I can...” Sam waves his hand lazily at the paper towels on the wall by the door.

“Nah.” Dean yawns and cuddles in against Sam's side. Not that Sam will _ever_ use the word “cuddle” out loud when it comes to Dean, but it makes him grin just thinking it. “Motel. Shower. Pizza.” Dean groans and shoves himself into a sitting position, letting Sam pull his own jeans back up. “And then revenge for making me beg.”

Dean stands up and slips out the door. Sam sits there for a moment, stunned, and then he scrambles to his feet, does up his fly and darts out after his brother.

He can't _wait_ to see what Dean has in mind.


End file.
